


I bet on losing dogs

by Red_Shepherds



Category: Original Work, Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Mutual Pining, Other, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22707091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Shepherds/pseuds/Red_Shepherds
Summary: Character contextualization and a sweet little flashback to when things were good for my Pathfinder PC :)
Relationships: Original Male Character(s)/Original Non-Binary Character(s)





	I bet on losing dogs

**Author's Note:**

> Peotyr Rogarvia is an NPC in my DM (arsarcane on tumblr)'s Pathfinder: Kingmaker campaign. Valentin is my PC. This is flashback to before Peotyr got dis-a-fuckin-peared, back when Valentin was working under him as his court alchemist. Alein Tchaikovsky Valentin uses any pronouns; Peotyr is he/him. Have some character building/contextualization of why Valentin is still lovestruck as fuck.

To anyone else, perhaps, it would have looked haphazard, my alchemy. My vials were disorganized, where they sat on my desk, and surely some would have been startled by the strange process I was performing, making an ampoule to hold the catalyst for my bombs. 

That would be the problem of whoever was being alarmed by it, however. I twisted the glass rod to seal it shut, ensured that it had no leaks, and sat it alongside the others. I hadn't had time to test my bombs, yet. I would. 

My tail flicked in annoyance as I picked through my desk's drawers, more disorganized than I'd left them. I didn't know who'd dug through them, but when I found them--

The lock on my door clicked, and I straightened, taking a breath or two to compose myself. Only three people had the keys to my study--myself, the maids, Peotyr. This time of night, the maids would be asleep. That left only the one possibility. 

Even with the low candlelight leaving much of his face to the imagination, Peotyr looked tired. Like every human, he needed his sleep, and from the looks of it, he had not been getting it. My heart ached, both for that, and for the usual reasons it did around Peotyr. 

He walked into my study, when I didn't bid him to leave, and I slid my chair to the side so that he could pull up the other and sit at my desk with me. Wordlessly, he did--we didn't need to speak, on such things. I noted, as he settled in, that he looked disheveled. Maybe he'd tried to sleep. 

"Valentin--Alein. I wouldn't suppose you'd have anything to knock me out?" 

"I make something, if you need. Or…" I had the sudden impulse to cheer him up, and I picked up one of the ampoules, "bomb. Knock you right out," I deadpanned. 

Peotyr smiled, slightly--I'd expected a snort--and rested his elbow on the desk, forehead against his palm. He rubbed to fingers at his temples, eyes closed but still smiling. 

"I am," he said, smile not dropping, "so fucking tired." 

"Mm. Have you tried not being political powerhouse for five seconds? I find to be very relaxing." 

"At this point, I think if I ever truly relaxed, I'd die." 

"Sleep...is time to relax?" I questioned him, tilting my head. He shook his, in turn. 

"No, there's no rest for me. At night, I dream of the court, or my parents' goddess, or my impending marriage. They haven't even picked a girl yet," Peotyr spat, "and here's to another five years of indecision." 

"Seconded. I cannot imagine is easy, walking in your shoes. I...cannot image I make easier." 

Peotyr opened his eyes, looking at me blearily. He studied me, for a second, in a quiet way that I found he rarely had time for. 

"You're what makes it tolerable, Alein. I don't think I could go through this conversation with a cleric, much less one I didn't know, who wasn't my friend." 

"I am your friend?" 

"Yes, Alein. And not just because I pay you to be, I can tell." 

"What can you tell? What do you mean?" I felt myself flushing--if his weak human eyes had been able to see better in the low light, he'd have seen the tips of my ears go a dark purple. As it was, I wasn't sure he didn't see anyway. 

"That you're--" he yawned suddenly, pressing his face to his hand more insistently, "trying to be my friend, genuinely." 

"I--do not have many, my lord." 

"Peotyr. Please. When we're alone, just...Peotyr. Let me pretend we're just two people, for a second." 

"Mm. I tell things about you, too, Peotyr." 

"Like...what, Alein?" he asked, drowsily. 

"Like you are about to fall asleep on desk. Here, let me move ampoules. There. Rest head. Rest eyes." 

Peotyr did as bidden, laying down to rest for as long as I was going to let him. Before he drifted off, he trained those observant eyes on me. 

"Tell me something about your home, Alein. You...play things so close to the vest, I...I feel like I don't know what you're thinking." 

"Is better that you not know that. But," I sighed, "what do you want to know?" 

"Tell me...about your siblings, your mother. About Pitax." 

I did. Perhaps, after his eyes were shut and his breathing was even, I told him quietly of more than he should have known. If he heard me, he didn't stir, and I set quietly back about my work of making ampoules and catalysts. Tonight, we could have this quiet. Tomorrow, there would be more to see, and more to learn. 

In the light of day, Peotyr would gather his strength back together, be what we needed from a leader. For now he slept, and dreamed. I whispered quiet things to him. I tried to guide his dreams to something nice.


End file.
